Strickland nodded.
“Mr. Strickland, we’re present in a conference room in your attorney’s office,” she said. “I’m going to read you your Miranda rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney . . .” When she’d finished she said, “Do you understand your rights as I’ve read them to you?”
Strickland gave a subtle nod.
“You have to answer audibly,” Montgomery said. He sat at an angle, facing both Strickland and Tracy, the ballpoint pen in hand.
“Yes, I understand,” Strickland replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Tracy said, “I understand that you’ve asked to speak to me.”
Strickland nodded.
“Audibly,” Montgomery said.
“Yes.”
Strickland sat back and took a deep breath. His chest shuddered. He took a moment to get his emotions under control. Tracy waited. She had interviewed sociopaths before and Strickland had all the markings of one. Often intelligent, they could be master manipulators capable of giving command performances that would make the best Juilliard-trained actors look like amateurs. It was not lost on her that Strickland had asked to speak to her, a woman, and she was on guard in the event his request was to try to manipulate her or the judicial process that would inevitably follow.
“I didn’t kill Megan,” he said.
Tracy didn’t respond.
“I didn’t kill Devin Chambers and I didn’t kill my wife. I know you think I did, but I didn’t.”
“What did you say to Megan Chen when you met her for lunch today?” Tracy asked.
“I told her something had come up in one of my cases but that I could meet her at my loft when I’d finished.”
“Had going back to your loft been part of your original plan?”
“I’d hoped so,” Strickland said.
“How was she going to get in?”
“She knew the code.”
“You were dating?”
“We’d gone out a few times.”
“Tell me what happened after my partner and I left the restaurant?”
“I stayed for a few minutes to check and answer some e-mails, then I called my office and told them I was going to take a longer lunch but that I would be in for an appointment I had at three o’clock.” Strickland took another deep breath and raised the mug to his lips with trembling hands, sipping tea. Lowering the mug, he continued. “I made a few phone calls and drove home.”
“Did you call and tell her you were on your way?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Megan liked to surprise me.”
“Surprise you how?”
“Can I finish? I think it will become apparent.”
“Go ahead.”
“I parked in my space beneath the building. Megan’s car was parked in one of the guest spaces.”
“What kind of car?” Tracy asked.
“Her car? A blue Camry. I took the elevator from the garage to my landing.”
“I notice you need a code to get in the front entrance to the building and to your apartment. Do you need a code to access your landing from the elevator in the garage?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Megan knew that code?”
Strickland nodded. “It’s the same code as the front door.” He took a breath, blew it out. “When I walked in, I called out her name, but she didn’t answer. I called a couple more times, and when she didn’t answer, I suspected she was either taking a shower upstairs or she was hiding.”
“Did you notice anything unusual, anything out of place that caused you any alarm?”
“No.”
“Why did you think she’d be hiding—because she liked to surprise you?”
“Yes. She’d jump out, or pop out from under the covers.”
“She’d surprised you before?”
“Right.”
“So what did you do when you got home?”
“I went up the stairs.” Strickland’s gaze lacked focus. “The bedroom is blocked by a partition. I couldn’t see anything. I said her name as I stepped around the partition. I thought she was going to jump out at me . . . and that’s when I saw her, and the blood.”
“Where was she?” Tracy asked.
Strickland looked up as if he hadn’t heard the question. “What?”
“Where did you find her?”
“The bed. She was on the bed.”
“In what position?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Was she sitting up, laying down?”
“She was on her stomach with her left arm sort of draped over her head.” Strickland raised his arm and bent it over his head. “Like she’d been sleeping.”
That had been Tracy’s thought when she saw the body. There was no indication Megan Chen had tried to run or avoid her killer, which meant either she knew him, or he’d surprised her. Both could apply to Strickland.
“And you say she’d done this before, surprised you like that?”
“Yes.”
“What position was she in on that occasion?”
“She’d been hiding under the covers. She just sat up and yelled ‘Surprise!’” Strickland said without enthusiasm.
“Do you have any explanation for why she would have been on her stomach?”
Strickland shrugged. “Like I said, she looked like she’d fallen asleep.”